King of Spades, Queen of Hearts
by Well I Don't Mind
Summary: Sparrow has the whole world before her, and ready for all the knowledge she can take in. At first she only wants to take revenge on Lord Lucien, but then she finds herself a target to another avenger, the ruthless pirate Sharp. FemSparrow/OC Please, R&R! PAUSED!
1. Prologue

**A/N: **I do not own the Fable universe, although I wish I did.  
Well, I hope you'll like it!

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_**King of Spades, Queen of Hearts**_

**Prologue  
**_Bloodline_

Five hundred years ago, the Hero of Oakvale defeated the dreaded Jack of Blades, and set the world free from horror and tyranny. Little did the Hero know that after his death, the Hero's Guild would fall, and the age of Heroes would be over. But as he grew older, and had suppressed the dangers to the darkest parts of the world, the Hero himself drew back to Serenity Farm located in Oakfield, and stayed in there, protected by the Demon Door. Some say he married a woman and brought her to the farm where they lived happily ever after with children and grandchildren. And when the Hero passed away, his children and grandchildren would all live in that very farm, generation after generation.

No one after the Hero ever entered that cave, because no one understood the ancient magic of the Demon Door, except his children.

Some say the Hero was too scarred to ever have a family, that he closed himself inside Homestead for some final years of peace, and that his bloodline died out.

But five hundred years later, a girl was born—a girl who's fate was written in stone. She had the blood of the Hero, was his true descendant. But the young girl and her big sister spent their lives in poverty, and when they, after purchasing a magical Music Box, was taken to Fairfax Castle, Lord Lucien could not even think of these two girls to bear the blood of the last true Hero.

It was evident that this young girl was the one to inherit the powers, because even though Lucien Fairfax had shot her, and she had fallen out of the castle window, she was still alive though badly wounded, and her sister – after receiving a bullet, too – was killed.

Theresa was the one to find the young, wounded girl, and knew exactly who she was and what to do. She had seen this in various visions, and promised herself to raise the girl, train her and make her the greatest Hero Albion had ever seen, and as the girl grew up, she would want revenge upon Lucien Fairfax for killing her precious sister.

But Lord Lucien was not the biggest threat to the Hero of Bowerstone, because as much as she wanted to avenge her sister, there was someone else who wanted to avenge an ancestor.


	2. Chapter One

**A/N:** So, here's chapter 1. I don't really know what to say about it.. it was a bit short, and I apologise for that, but I hope you'll enjoy it anyway :)

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Fable Universe.

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**_King of Spades, Queen of Hearts_**

**Chapter One**_  
For a start._

"Breathe, Sparrow," she whispered to herself as she braced herself to attack Theresa, her mentor and guardian.

"Concentrate," Theresa commanded with her calm voice.

Theresa was old and blind, but was a heck of a warrior. Sparrow had been training with her ever since she was found after falling out of the window of Fairfax Castle.  
After a final breath, she charged against Theresa, but was, as many times before, knocked aside by a simple movement.

"Good strength, bad aim," Theresa said. "You need to focus all of your energy and keep your eyes on the target."

"Forgive me," Sparrow mumbled.

"Don't you worry," Theresa said. "Sometimes you succeed and sometimes you fail. That's life. Although, I prefer when you succeed." Then she smiled. "Put all training aside for tonight, because I'm taking you to Bowerstone."

"Really?!" Excitement ran through Sparrow's body as she smiled with her whole face.

"Tomorrow is your sixteenth birthday," Theresa smiled. "You shouldn't spend it training."

"Oh, Theresa, thank you!" Sparrow cried. "Thank you! Did you hear that, Jack? We're going to Bowerstone! Oh, yes we are! Yes, we are!" She smiled at her dog and rubbed him behind his ears.  
Time went by like a breeze after that. They travelled with together with Garret the Traveller in a gypsy caravan. It took some time to travel to Bowerstone, because it was a distance of a hundred and twenty miles, but the time seemed to fly by. They had to walk five miles, though, because Garret was going directly to Rookridge, without passing Bowerstone. Sparrow hadn't been to Bowerstone since her sister died, and even though she felt a brief discomfort in going there, she still was very excited. Just the fact that there would be people to get to know was reason enough to go.

"You have one hour to spare when we get to Bowerstone," Theresa said. "If I were you I would buy some new books."

"I don't have any money." She felt a bit bad saying that; she used to have a couple of gold pieces at least, but she had gambled them all away.

"It is your birthday, isn't it?" Once again, Sparrow felt bad, because Theresa handed over a small bag of fifty gold pieces.

"You don't have to give me this."

"Nonsense. You've worked hard and well, and you deserve it."

"Thank you."

They didn't speak another word during their walk to Bowerstone. There was no need for it. As they entered the city, Sparrow was overthrown by the number of people walking the streets, screaming out reduced prices at food-stands and beggars sitting on the ground.

"Do what you like, see what you want to see, buy what you want to buy," Theresa said. "Meet me at the Cow & Corset by midnight."

Sparrow nodded and hurried away together with her dog. She started at the Fiction Burns bookshop to buy books, just as Theresa had suggested. Sparrow was fairly interested in the Old Kingdom, and wanted to know as much as possible. The main reason for that was because of Lucien; if he hadn't been so obsessed with the Old Kingdom, he would never have killed Rose. And Sparrow felt as if she had to find out why he was so obsessed—what tempted him so. She knew the legends, but she wanted to know more.  
After buying a couple of books, she headed for the tailor. Maybe she could get herself a new pair of trousers, or at least a new skirt. People were laughing and talking to one another, and everybody seemed to know each other. The tailor was very nice. Her name was Sally, and she made sure Sparrow tried on every garment she had in, even though she couldn't afford them.

"Oh, I love this skirt on you!" Sally exclaimed. "Put on this blouse, and you'll see that it fits perfectly to your body, and your beautiful, black hair!"

Sparrow put it on, and for once in her life, she felt like a real woman. But the Noble Skirt was far too expensive, and she ended up buying some green dye for her clothes.  
She decided to head for Bowerstone Old Town since all shops were closing. Old Town looked like it used to. It was a bit wealthier though, since last time she was there. She headed to the place where she and Rose used to stand and look out over Fairfax Castle, dreaming of one day living there. She stood there as the sun was setting, leaving her in the damp light of the street lights. Just as she was about to head for where she and her sister used to live, she heard upset voices. It was two men arguing. She told Jack to sit down and be quiet, snuck a bit closer and hid behind a corner to listen a bit more.

"L—look, I'm sorry!" one man stuttered frightened.

Then Sparrow could hear the sound of a gun being loaded. She leaned a bit closer.

"I have two daughters back home!" the frightened man cried. "You wouldn't take their father away, would you?! You aren't _that_ heartless!"

At this point Sparrow's head was almost visible.

"You should have thought of that _before_ you double-crossed me," another man growled lowly.

Sparrow could now see the two men; the frightened man was a small, harmless-looking man with a normal moustache and farmer's clothes. The other man, holding a pistol, was tall, muscular and rather cruel-looking. It didn't seem fair, at all. The smaller man didn't even have a weapon to defend himself with.

"No! Please, n—" A bullet passed through the man's head, and he fell to the ground, dead.

Sparrow let out a loud gasp, and covered her mouth with her hands, and the tall man swung his head towards her. Their eyes met for a moment, his furious and hers wide open with fear. After a long second, both of them reacted.

"Hey!" the man roared as Sparrow sprinted away, closely followed by Jack. "Come back here!"

But Sparrow didn't even consider stopping. She ran as fast as she could back to Bowerstone Market and into the Cow & Corset, hoping it would be close to midnight. To her great relief she found Theresa by a table. She wasn't drinking or eating anything. She was just sitting there, as though she observed the people in the tavern, although she was blind. Sparrow sat down, panting.

"Have you been running?" Theresa asked with her usual calm voice.

"Thought I was going to be late."

"You have a whole hour left."

"Oh, well—" She fell quiet when the tavern door slammed open, and the tall man entered. Sparrow swallowed; she had nowhere to hide.

The rest of the tavern fell silent, too.

"Get out of here, Sharp!" the barman said. "Or else I'll call for the guards."

The tall man, named Sharp, looked around. He found who he was chasing and set his eyes on Sparrow. Jack started to bristle and growl lowly. At first, the man's eyes sent ice-cold chills along Sparrow's spine, and then he smirked. "Fine, I'll go." He then looked down at the barman and left the tavern.

"You can breathe now, Sparrow," Theresa said when the people had started to talk again. Then she shook her head. "Bloody Sharp. He had so much potential, but threw it all away for piracy."

"So, he's a pirate?"

"The worst there is," she said. "Completely without compassion. He knows exactly what's wrong and right, but he doesn't care. Ruthless and cruel. And dangerously smart! Therefore his name. I wanted to take him under my wings once, when he was a child, when I discovered that he had extraordinary power. But he had already been recruited by a pirate and chose that path."

Sparrow nodded. She was still in shock after what she'd seen. No matter how hard Theresa had trained her, she had never seen someone get killed, and it was more horrifying that she had ever imagined.

"Are you hungry?" Theresa scratched Jack behind his ears and looked up towards Sparrow.

"No, not really." She was rather nauseous; the only thing she had in mind at that moment was the begging man, the cruel pirate and the gunshot.

Theresa's silence proved that she understood that something was wrong, but she didn't ask what.

*

They stayed at the Cow & Corset that night, and as Sparrow lay awake in her bed, with Jack at her feet, she couldn't help but to wonder about Theresa and her past, as she had wondered many times before. There was something tragic about her, as if she had a dark past. Sparrow had never had the courage to ask her, and couldn't do else but wonder. She fell asleep late that night, dreaming about the blind seeress and the ruthless pirate.  
She woke up early by a drunken man tumbling into her room, grabbing her sheets.

"Ey, love!" he brawled. "C'mon, le's have a nice time, you an' I!"

Jack jumped off the bed, growling violently and showing his teeth.

"Nice doggie, _nice_ doggie," the drunk said as he raised his fist towards the dog.

"Don't you touch him, you scumbag," Sparrow growled as she grabbed a stove poker and stepped out of the bed. "Get out!" She raised the poker so that if she would strike, she would hit his face.

"Oh, c'mon, love!" the drunk gurgled. "Don' be like tha'!"

"Get out!" Sparrow roared as she swung the poker at him. It hit the side of his face, and he fell to the floor, bleeding from his cheek.

"You fuckin' bitch!" he shouted as he tried to get to his feet. At this point more people had started gather in the doorway, all looking terrified. The barman stormed in, grabbing the poker from Sparrow's hand and then tried to remove her from the drunk.

"Stop it!" he shouted.

"Get that crazy whore off of me!"

"What's going on?" Even though Theresa spoke pretty silently, her voice was the most audible in the room.

"Seeress," the barman growled. "Take your apprentice, and get _out_ of here!"

Theresa was silent, looking right into the barman's eyes with her glowing white eyes, and even though she was blind, she was somehow looking right into his soul. "Sparrow, let's go. It's obvious these people don't want us here anymore."

Without a word Sparrow jerked her arms out of the barman's grip and walked out of the tavern together with Theresa and Jack.

"I'm sorry," she said as they exited the gates of Bowerstone.

"You've still got a lot to learn, Sparrow," Theresa said. "One of those things is that you shouldn't apologise for something you aren't responsible for. That man broke into your room and you defended yourself. Nothing else."

As they started their journey towards Bower Lake, both Sparrow and Theresa were silent. But after a while, Sparrow looked at her mentor; "Thank you."

"There's no need of thanking me just yet," she said. "You've still got a lot of training ahead of you."

*

They walked the whole day, without saying much. The days used to look like that. Theresa rarely spoke about anything. Neither did Sparrow. And Sparrow's thoughts continued; who was Theresa, really? She was no ordinary woman, of that she was sure. She was so wise, so calm and so virtuous, yet there was something dark about her that haunted her blind eyes.  
As the dark fell Theresa ordered Sparrow to gather some wood for a fire; they were camping there for the night.

"Take this sword," Theresa said and handed over a steel longsword. "These areas use to be swarmed by bandits and beetles."

Sparrow nodded and took the sword. Then she headed out in the dark. She had no light, and that annoyed her; her night-vision was not exactly the best. She had to move quietly, otherwise someone would hear her, and that was the last thing she wanted. She hated to admit it to herself, but she was a bit of a coward sometimes. Just the bare thought of bandits made her shivered. What would happen if she actually met one? Would she be able to strike him down, or would she be killed?  
"Stop it, Sparrow!" she hissed to herself. "'Death is not your destiny today, little Sparrow'." She always quoted what Theresa had said, every time she felt the least insecure. She kept repeating it to herself, but when she suddenly tripped on a stump, she cursed as she fell forwards.

"Nice choice of words." A cold blade was placed upon Sparrow's throat as she was just about to rise. A heavy chill travelled along her spine as she found the rasping, dark voice uncomfortably familiar. "Now, why does such a little girl travel in the woods alone like this?"

"If you hurt me, Theresa will kill you, Sharp," Sparrow said in a trembling voice.

"Ah, Theresa," he said and chuckled. "I thought she died."

"No, she's alive and strong," Sparrow said. "Stronger that you."

"I wasn't going to hurt you, darling," he sighed, bored out of his wits. "I was just going to scare you a little." He grabbed her chin and brought her face to face with him. "What you saw last night is nothing you should go around and tell people. And if you do, I will know, and I will find you, and I will kill you. Theresa won't be able to protect you forever." He eyed her with a smirk appearing on his lips. Then he leaned down, put his face next to hers and whispered in her ear; "You're a little sweetheart, aren't you?"

"Don't touch me."

"Oh, you're fierce."

"Let me go."

"Fine," he said and let her go. "You're only a child, anyway."

"I'm not a child!" Sparrow protested, gravely offended.

The pirate laughed scornfully. "You look like fresh meat to me."

"Who are you to judge, you old, bloody pirate?" Sparrow muttered as she glared at Sharp. She continued to mutter as she drew her sword. "You won't follow me?"

"Trust me, I have better things to do that run after children," Sharp said and started to walk away from her. "And remember what I said."

"I am _not_ a _child_!" she shouted after him, but as he disappeared into the dark forest, she muttered angrily to herself as she gathered some sticks for Theresa's fire. When she got back, she was still muttering.

"I hear you're upset"," Theresa said.

"Tripped in the woods."

"If that's what you say." Theresa had a way of discreetly commanding people to tell the truth by using reversed psychology, and Sparrow fell for it every time.

"I… I met a bandit in the woods."

"And he upset you?"

"He was rude."

Theresa only laughed.

"It wasn't very funny."

Theresa shook her head. "Then there're a lot of bandits that are going to upset you; they aren't very polite, you know."

Sparrow muttered something that was impossible to hear and sat down, kicking leaves on the ground.

"Sleep. We aren't far from Bower Lake, and hard training awaits you." Theresa gave her a rough blanked to pull over herself, and then she leaned against a tree and looked into the fire with her blind eyes.

"How did you lose your eyes?" She couldn't detain herself.

"They were cut out," Theresa answered. "But that was a long time ago. Now, sleep."

"Why were they cut out?"

Theresa sighed. "Sleep. I will tell you another time, but not now."

"Why?"

"Because you need some sleep."

"Who cut them out?"

Theresa was silent for a while, considering whether or not she should tell Sparrow. "Jack of Blades."

Sparrow didn't have any answer to that. Had Theresa encountered Jack of Blades? Was she really that old? That was five hundred years ago… "Jack of Blades?"

Theresa nodded. "He cut my eyes out because I didn't tell him what he wanted to hear."

"I'm sorry."

"We all are. Now, _sleep_."

And with that Sparrow lay down, once again her head filled with thoughts about Theresa and her past. More pieces of the puzzle had been made, and some had been put to place, but there were still plenty more to go. But she knew that Theresa had encountered Jack of Blades. That was a start.


	3. Chapter Two

**A/N:** So, this is the second chapter. I'm kind of happy with how this chap turned out. Well, this is my first Fable-fiction, but I hope you'll continue to read, and most of all enjoy :)

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**_King of Spades, Queen of Hearts_**

**Chapter Two**_  
No pain, no gain._

As the stars led the way, Sharp walked along the trees on his way to Westcliff, where he would set sail towards Bloodstone with his ship _The Howler_. He had some unfinished business to do in Albion before he returned to Haladon, his homeland. He picked up a small flute he had in his coat and started to play a merry tune while he strolled around, careless about the world around him. Some guards looked suspiciously at him when he passed, but as long as he didn't do anything illegal they wouldn't do anything to him.

It wasn't until he had reached Bower Lake that trouble started to pop up. He heard someone scream down by the lake. It sounded like a child. He usually didn't care about others business, whether it meant someone getting killed or robbed. But if there was something he hated, it was violence against children. He didn't like children very much – they always annoyed him – but he found it cowardly to hurt someone as defenceless and vulnerable as a child. He hurried down to the shore with his gun ready. There he saw a bandit threat a little, crying boy with a cutlass.

"If you don't shut up, I'll cut your throat!" the bandit roared.

The boy kept crying loudly.

"Shut up!" The bandit slapped the boy hard across his face. So hard, that the boy flung backwards, and blood was dripping from his nose and broken lip. The boy silenced in pain and fear.

It didn't take long for Sharp to decide what to do. Sending a bullet through the bandit's head was one of the easiest things he had ever done. It was a clean shot, an inch above the left ear. No unnecessary blood-splatter, one shot only. He smirked and walked down to the injured and frightened boy.  
"Wipe your face, boy, and return to you mother," he said, searching the corpse for riches.

"Thank you, sir," the boy whispered.

"Don't thank me, just go. And don't talk about this."

The boy ran away on shaky legs while Sharp dragged the dead bandit down to the lake and tossed him in. Sharp had found a golden watch in the bandit's shirt, probably already stolen. But, funders—keepers, losers—weepers.

He kept walking. It was unusually loud back by the Gypsy Camp, and a big fire lighted the sky, but he figured they were celebrating something. He would love to go there, have a couple of drinks and perhaps one or two women, but he had better things to do. It would take three to four days to get to Westcliff, but he didn't mind. He enjoyed the fresh air, and perhaps killing a Balverine or two. Once again he picked up the flute and began playing, enjoying the loneliness and peace, but only to be interrupted once again.

"Oi!" a man shouted. "Who's there?"

Sharp rolled his eyes, put down his flute and picked up his gun.

"Idiot, that's Sharp!" another man growled at the other. "Eh… captain! We're happy to see you!"

"Cut the crap," Sharp muttered and shook his head.

"Um… sorry! We didn't mean to bother you!" the other bandit said. "We… we're—"

"Shut up, you'll upset him!"

"Alright, sorry!"

Sharp shook his head once again. These bloody bandits. They had no brains. For all he knew, pirates had always been smarter; hence, they travelled on water instead of on land, to get a better range of places to go. Bandits couldn't reach Bloodstone from Rookridge, for example. None of them would ever make it through Wraithmarsh, if they even got there. Pirates could travel by water. Of course, Bloodstone was a pirate-city for a reason. But generally, pirates were smarter. At least according to Sharp. Then again, according to Sharp, pirates were the best people in the world. At least he was. According to him.

"Hey, captain!" One of the bandits walked up to him with his palms up.

"What?" Sharp asked annoyed.

"Well, we—"

"Nothing. It's nothing," the other said. "We'll leave you alone now, captain."

Sharp raised an eyebrow and continued walking, completely ignoring the two bandits. He hated bandits.

**.≈*.~:ö:~.*≈.**

The sun was rising over Albion, and Theresa and Sparrow was already on their way.

"Do you think I could learn to kill with rocks?" Sparrow asked as she tossed a small rock up and down in her hand.

"You could learn anything you want," Theresa said. "If you give it enough time."

"Really?" Sparrow looked at the small stone in her hand and then sighed. Enough time… who had enough time? Theresa should have had enough time for anything by now… "Why is it, that I don't know anything about you, really, while you know everything about me?"

"Of course I know all about you," Theresa said. "I raised you."

"But I want to know something about you!" Sparrow cried. "What about your family? Did you have any brothers and sisters? How were your mother and father? Who was your best friend?"

"It was a long time ago," Theresa said. "There's no point in talking about it now."

Sparrow sighed and threw away the little rock. Jack walked next to her with his nose on the ground, sniffing after bunnies. She would never get to know Theresa's secrets, of that she was sure. She was far too reserved. But perhaps if she changed tactics… "How come you wanted to train someone like Sharp? Is he a hero, too?"

"He could have been."

"So he has will-powers, too?"

"Yes."

"Is he… well, is he dangerous for me?"

"Why the sudden fascination of him?" Theresa looked at Sparrow with a raised eyebrow.

"How do you find us?" Sparrow ignored her question.

"Find you?"

"How do you find us 'hero-blooded'?"

"'Hero-blooded'? That was a new expression."

Sparrow sighed. "Why do you avoid my question?"

"Well, how do I find you?" She sighed. "I don't find you. You find me."

Sparrow looked like huge question mark. Theresa was the one who had found Sparrow and Rose that day in Bowerstone, not the other way, right?

"I see that you doubt my answer," Theresa said. Then she sighed again. "Let's just say, that we… 'hero-blooded', as you call it, have a tendency of… finding each other."

"But I've never found another hero!" Sparrow said.

"You found me." She smiled. "And you found Sharp, even though your meeting was a bit… unfortunate."

"I suppose."

"Don't be surprised if you run into him again," Theresa said. "The blood of heroes is connected, no matter the origin."

"What's his origin?" Sparrow asked. "No, wait. What's _my_ origin?"

"In time, little Sparrow," Theresa said.

When they reached the Gypsy Camp in Bower Lake, they were faced with a dreadful sight; burnt and smashed caravans were everywhere, and some of them were still burning. There were no people around, but the cries and screams of despair could be heard from a distance.  
Sparrow gasped loudly, and she wanted to run to wherever the cries came from.

"I can feel the smell of Death," Theresa said.

"Oh, Theresa!" Sparrow cried with a thick voice. "It's horrible! It's all… gone."

"I should have known," Theresa muttered to herself. "Let's find the others."

Sparrow nodded, even though she knew Theresa wouldn't see it. Then they headed towards the cries. The sight was even more horrifying that the first one; the gypsies were gathered around a line of dead bodies – men, women and children. Twelve dead. The survivals turned to Sparrow and Theresa, their guardians, who had been away.

"They came out of nowhere," a woman cried.

Sparrow approached the line of dead bodies. It was like a knife punctured her heart when she spotted a dark-haired boy in her own age lying amongst the dead – Derek. She had grown up with him, he was her best friend. Her best friend in the whole world, apart from Jack. She fell to her knees by his head and cried silently. She lifted his head up, placed it in her lap, and stroke his hair while her salty tears landed on his face. He was such a wonderful person. Loving, caring, brave.  
"I'm sorry, Derek," she whispered. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"He was brave," a woman – Maya – said. "He fought them like a hero."

Sparrow looked up at her with swollen eyes. "I bet he did." She smiled and looked down at Derek again; always the hero.

"Sparrow," Theresa said and placed a hand on her shoulder. "There's no time for any more training. They tell me it was Highwaymen that did this. Highwaymen and Assassins. Which means that someone hired them, probably to find you."

Another tear fell to Derek's forehead, and she shook her head. "I'm not leaving until they all have been properly buried."

"There is no time for us to stay," Theresa said impatiently. Then she sighed. "Please, walk with me."

Sparrow gave Derek one last stroke over his hair and then she placed his head carefully on the ground again. She rose and looked at Theresa, and the white eyes stared at her, right into her soul. Then they walked. Away from the crowd. Away from Derek.

"I should have taken you to the Guild Cave long ago." Theresa almost seemed angry, something that was very rare. "You haven't completed your training, and to you have to be on your way to Lucien. Otherwise, more people will be hurt."

"I want to bury Derek first," Sparrow said stubbornly. "I can't go out there, knowing that I couldn't be there when he got his final rest! I wasn't there to protect him when he died, so the least I can do is to be there when they bury him!"

"Sparrow, I know you were very fond of him, but you have to understand that you'll be facing a—"

"I loved him," Sparrow cut in. I wasn't _fond_ of him. I _loved_ him. He was always there, supporting me when no one else did. When you were pushing me the hardest, he was there to support me and tell me that I would make it, that one day, I would be the greatest hero of them all!" Tears were streaming down her face as she talked – almost shouted – angrily. "Don't you dare keep me from being there when they bury him!"

"Your dedication to him is very moving," Theresa said. "But you cannot let it slow you down. You'll be facing a lot of death, Sparrow. People you love will die, just like Derek did, if you don't finish your training."

"I'm not going until I've seen him in his grave."

Theresa stopped to look at Sparrow, again with the piercing eyes that saw everything. "If you choose not to enter the Guild Cave now, you will never have the time to do it, and you'll have to go out there, a lot less trained that what needed. Personally, I am not very happy about the idea."

"If you didn't think I could do it, you would never give me an option," Sparrow said.

"So, this is what you want?"

She nodded.

"I admire your courage, Sparrow," Theresa said. "Derek would be proud of having you as a friend."

"I know he is," Sparrow said.

"Hopefully, you understand what this means?" Theresa said.

"Less power," Sparrow nodded. "I know. But I'll manage."

Theresa nodded, and together they went back to the crowd.

That night, Sparrow helped digging the twelve graves. They all faced the east, so they could see the sun rise. They were set to bury them all by sunrise, and when the sun started to show behind the mountains, the gypsies gathered around the graves, and gave their blessings each.  
"To Derek," Sparrow said. "May you always have the heart of a lion." She threw a lily on his coffin, and smiled weakly. Derek wouldn't have wanted her to go without proper training, but he would love the challenge himself.  
They put protective runes on each coffin, and then they covered the graves with soil and prayed for the light to guard over them.

"Everybody, let's eat," Idos, the camp chef said. "We are all tired and hungry."

They all nodded and followed the chef. All except for Sparrow. She stayed by the graves and waited until they all were gone. Then she pulled out a small knife she always carried with her, and cut herself in her hand. She let the blood land upon Derek's grave as she spoke,  
"I promise to find and kill Lucien, and I will do it for you, for Rose, and for everybody else he has killed. I'm not only giving you my word – I give you my blood." And with that, she looked at the grave one last time before she headed towards the rest of the crowd.

"Well, I won't leave!" The gypsies were all in a wild discussion about whether or not they should leave Bower Lake for someplace else.

"They might come here again!"

"They might come, wherever we are!"

People were starting to shout at each other, and some started to cry. It was chaos.

"Everybody," Theresa said loudly, and everyone went quiet and looked at her. "Don't you worry. You don't have to leave. They came here because of Sparrow, and she will be leaving you shortly."

They all stood speechless and looked from Theresa to Sparrow.

"It's the only way," Sparrow said. "I'll go to find Lucien, and you should be safe."

No one made any objections to _that_. One of the gypsies said what all of the others were thinking,

"When are you leaving, then?"

Sparrow sighed. "I'll go right now, if that's what you want." Once again, it felt as if her heart just got stabbed. She knew gypsies weren't very keen of people outside their own societies, but Sparrow thought that she was one of them, and had been one of them since she was brought there. But apparently, she was wrong. They didn't want her there, and they would rather want to save their own than her, of course.

"The sooner you leave, the sooner Lucien will leave us alone," Adrian the Tattooist said grumpily.

Sparrow looked around, offended. "Fine," she said. "Fine. I'll leave, right now." She turned on the spot and walked towards the exit. Jack followed loyally.

"Sparrow, wait." Theresa walked behind her, and Sparrow stopped and turned. "Take this bow, and this Guild Seal. It will allow me to talk to you."

"Thanks," Sparrow muttered.

"Look," Theresa said and sighed. "I know it seems like they don't want you here, but that's not true. Not entirely."

"Then what's their problem?"

"They feel inferior to you because of your powers," Theresa said. "They know you're a hero. You cheated Death."

"I didn't choose life," Sparrow muttered.

"No," Theresa said, "life chose _you_. Now go. Make me proud."

Sparrow nodded and was just about to go again when a woman caught her. "Here!" It was Norah, Derek's mother. She handed over a bag full of food and potions. "You'll need this." Then she smiled and disappeared to the crowd. Sparrow hung the bag over her shoulders and looked at Theresa.

"Well then, this is it," she said. They looked at each other for a while, and then Theresa nodded. She knew they would see each other again, and she knew she would be able to talk to Sparrow whenever she wanted to.

"Take care," she said and placed a hand on Sparrow's shoulder. "I believe in you."

"Thank you," Sparrow said. "See you later." Then she went out of the big, wooden gates, followed by Jack, and headed out in the world, not knowing where to begin. She figured Bowerstone was a good place to start, even thought she wasn't very keen on returning there.

**.≈*.~:ö:~.*≈.**

The way to the Bandit Coast was full of bandits, as usual, which Sharp didn't like very much. And most of them were cocky and dimwitted.

"Oi!" they shouted. "Pirate!"

Sharp didn't care about them. He could easily kill them, but he saw no fun in it. Even Balverines were smarter, and therefore more fun to fight.  
He was now approaching a bandit that was harassing a young female trader. He pulled out his gun and aimed it at the bandit. "Let her go."

The bandit looked up, and smirked. "Whatta ya gonna do 'bout it?"

"Shoot you?"

"C'mon then, pirate!" the bandit said and tossed the woman aside. "Or perhaps you're too much of a—"

There was a loud bang, and the bullet hit the bandit between the eyebrows, and he fell backwards. The woman cried as she thanked Sharp for saving her life.  
"Shut it," Sharp spat. "Give me whatever you've got."

"But I've—"

"It's very simple, missy," Sharp said and aimed the gun at her. "Either you give me your money, or I'll kill you."

"Oh, please, sir!" the woman cried as she crawled away from him.

But Sharp caught up with her and grabbed her by the collar. "Money or life?"

"Fi—five gold pieces," she sobbed. "That's all I've got!"

"Give it to me."

She nodded and pulled out a small moneybag from her bag of groceries and gave it to Sharp.

"Now, get out of here." He tossed her aside and continued walking. Was he ashamed? No. He didn't kill her, right? That was a good thing. He didn't rape her. That was a good thing, too. He just took her money. A fairly low price to pay for having her life saved. And five gold pieces was more than no gold pieces.

When the night came, he had almost reached the Bandit Coast. There were some Hobbes here and there he had to fight off, but otherwise the night was pretty calm. He thought about a lot of things. Most of all he thought about Haladon. He missed his home. He missed the big, green fields and the high mountains, the deep forests and valleys, the lakes and rivers. Albion was beautiful, but it was nothing compared to Haladon. In Haladon, he didn't have to be a pirate. In Haladon, he was a highly respected warrior. As a teenager, after a childhood at sea, he served under the King and Queen of Haladon, but when the King was murdered and his counsellor took his place as King, Sharp was banished from the kingdom. But he would return. Of that, he was sure.

The full moon lightened his way, while he walked along the lonely road. It wasn't that very far to the Bandit Coast now, and he met more and more bandits. Some of them looked at him with judging eyes, and some of them greeted him with handshakes and nods. He would stay in the camp on the coast to get some sleep, some well needed sleep.  
He sat down and leaned on a tree, somewhat hidden from the path. No need for unwanted disturbance during his sleep. His eyelids were heavy, and his breaths were slow. The pirate fell asleep with his hand on his flintlock, just in case.

**.≈*.~:ö:~.*≈.**

She wasn't welcome to Bowerstone. They didn't want her there. In Old Town, they didn't mind, though. She made her way towards Rookridge, thinking about Derek, Theresa, Rose, Lucien, Sharp… everything was spinning, and she couldn't make anything out anymore. She was so confused. Perhaps she was too tired. It was after all night time. But she couldn't sleep. Not now. Not here. There were far too many bandits in this area. She had just dodged two by hiding in the woods. She couldn't do that all the time. What kind of hero did that? Her kind, obviously. She had to have the guts, sometime. Otherwise, she wouldn't last one night. She didn't have that much time to think, because all of a sudden, someone started to shoot at her, and she jumped aside, pulled out her bow.  
"Stupid Theresa!" she hissed. Giving her a bow and not a gun? Pathetic. Everybody knew that bows were never used anymore.

"Oi! Girly!" a bandit shouted. "Whe'e did ya go?"

Sparrow lay hidden in the long grass. Good thing she was pretty small. Jack lay beside her, quiet as death, his eyes fixed upon the bandit. Sparrow put her bow horizontally and strained it. The only thing she waited for was the perfect shot. And there it was; the bandit's Achilles' tendon was in perfect range. She exhaled and let go if the bowstring. The arrow darted away and went right through the bandit's tendon, and he screamed and fell to the ground. Sparrow rose in a hurry and ran up to the wounded bandit. Then she drew her sword and looked down on him.  
"Never call me 'girly'," she growled and drove the blade through the bandit's chest. A jolt of energy shot though her small body, as the pulled the sword out of the body. It was a horrifying yet satisfying feeling, killing another human being. One minute that man's heart was beating, and the next it wasn't. And it was all because of her. Then she heard other voices coming closer, and she threw herself to the ground again, hiding in the long grass.

"What the hell was that?" one shouted.

"I dunno," another one grunted.

"Oi, Dunnan!" the first one shouted. "Dunnan! What's goin' on over there? Dunnan? Answer, you piece of filth!" But there was no answer.

Sparrow held her breath as the first bandit walked up to the dead one.

"What the—someone's here!" He pulled his gun and looked around.

This was Sparrow's chance to prove to herself and the world that she could take out two puny bandits. They were nothing against the blood that ran through her veins. She took a deep breath as she rose from the ground and fired an arrow towards the bandit. It hit him in the chest, and he dropped the gun. Jack skipped forwards and attacked the bandit, biting his legs and arms. Quick as a cat, Sparrow grabbed the gun and aimed it at the bandit's head. She had never used a gun before, but she knew the basics.

"You… little… _bitch_!" the bandit breathed as he fell to his knees, gasping for air. The arrow had punctured one of his lungs, and as he fell to the ground, he would soon be closing his eyes for the last time.

Then the other bandit showed up. He was dark-skinned, much larger than the other, and slightly dumber. "Ey, missy!" he said with such a deep voice the ground almost trembled under her feet. "Seen a killer 'ere somewhere?" He didn't even raise his gun to shoot her, even though she was aiming her gun at him and Jack was growling violently. He just stood there, looking at her and the two corpses. "Hi there, doggie! If I were you, I'd better run. I bet you'll be an easy target for a murderer!" It wasn't anything mean over this man, whatsoever. He was just… stupid.

"They—they're both dead," Sparrow said and nodded towards the two other bodies.

"Didn't like 'em anyway," the bandit said and shrugged. "But you'd better go! I'll make sure he doesn't follow you from 'ere!"

Sparrow inhaled and attached the gun to her belt. She couldn't kill him. He hadn't done anything. Finally, she nodded. "I'll go. Come on, Jack."

The bandit nodded. Still no hostility in his eyes. Sparrow thought that was it, the danger was over. But just as she passed the bandit that was supposed to be dead, he grabbed her leg and dragged her to the ground.

"You bloody bitch!" he hissed as he sliced her face with a dagger he had been sneaking out of his shirt while lying on the ground. "_Die_!"

"Don't hurt girls!" the other bandit roared as he dragged the supposedly dead bandit off of Sparrow. "Didn't your mummy ever tell you that?" Finally, he swung a giant axe at the bandit, and split his head into halves.

Sparrow just sat there, her eyes wide open. She couldn't breathe. Blood was dripping from a deep cut in her left cheek, but she didn't feel that pain.

The other bandit stood silent for a while. Then he dropped the heavy axe and gasped. "What have I done? I've killed one of me own!" Tears of panic started to fall from the big, bald bandit and he fell to his knees.

"No, no, no, no!" Sparrow said. "Don't—don't cry! Oh, please, don't cry!" She crawled to her knees and got closer to the bandit. "What's your name?"

"Henning," the bandit sobbed.

"Well Henning, you—you did a good thing!" Sparrow said. "Bandits… you hurt people! You shouldn't be a bandit! You should be something else! What do you like to do?"

"I dunno," Henning said. "I've ne'er thought about that! No one wants me around."

Sparrow sighed troubled. This was one strange bandit. "Well," she said, struggling to get away without causing anymore trouble, "you should join the monks! Yeah, you should join the monks! They'll take you in! They're all for second chances!"

"I've ne'er thought of that!" It was like the sun had just risen for him as he came to the realisation that perhaps there was a place for him. "Monks of the Light, right?"

"Of course!"

"Yea, I could do that!"

"Good!" Sparrow said and rose. Jack stood by her side, looking at the bandit with his head tipped to the side. "I'll even introduce you to them!" She didn't think he would turn on her and kill her now. If he wanted to kill her, he would already have done it.

"I can come with you?" he looked at her with a surprised look. "You're not—you want to travel with me after what I did?"

"You saved my life," she smiled. "It's the last thing I could do." Then she rose, and not until now, she started to feel the pain in her cheek. The blood was still flowing. Not as much as before, but enough to give the bitter smell of iron. "Come on, big boy. Let's go to Oakfield."

"I've ne'er had a friend before," Henning said and rose, too. He must have been at least six and a half feet, and big as a house.

"Well, you've got one now," she said. "Sparrow is my name."

"Right," he said. "I'll call you Birdie, then."

"Alright."

Together they walked towards the village of Oakfield, hoping they both would find what they were looking for.


End file.
